You'll Never Lose Me
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: After the final battle Hermione needs to clear her head, but she runs into the last person she'd expect to see. R&R, was a one-shot, now expanded. And now finished.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Still.

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Voldemort's reign of terror was over; defeated by the Boy Who Lived with little more than a Disarming Charm. All around the Great Hall families sat huddled together, thankful for one another, others were treated for the injuries they sustained. There was one side they all stayed clear of - the partitioned off corner where the fighters who perished lay, finally at rest.

Hermione Granger wanted nothing more at that moment than to be away from it all. She walked past the Weasley family, watched Molly hug and kiss and fawn over her brood. Draco Malfoy and his family sat close together, off in a corner of the room, unsure if they would be accepted by the winning side. A smile flashed across his face when he saw her. Instinctively, she returned it before Lucius Malfoy noticed.

The hallways were all but deserted, save for those searching the grounds for...well, anyone. Hermione made her way up one flight of stairs, then another and another, breaking into a jog towards the moving staircase until she finally reached the entrance to the Astronomy Tower. It would be quieter and much more peaceful. The perfect place to think, she told herself. She could rationalize the war, her actions, their actions, dissect and analyze the events leading up to the war. She had to think, had to keep her mind off of things, of people.

The night air was slightly chilled, the sky a starless black. It would be a few minutes before her eyes could adjust to such darkness. It would be a few minutes before she realized she wasn't alone in her sanctuary.

Red hair.

It shouldn't have been so illuminated on a night like this.

Her heart picked up speed as she moved closer to the figure in front of her, the backside facing her direction. She couldn't make out who it was aside from the fiery red hair and tall stature.

"George?" she guessed. The person didn't acknowledge her. She called out again. "Bill?" Still nothing. Tears stung her eyes, the back of her hand viciously swatting them away.

The man before her turned now to face her. "It can't be," she whispered, her hands covering her mouth, holding in the sobs she knew would surely wrack her body any moment now.

"It's alright," he told her, closing the distance in a few quick strides. His arms reached out to envelop her, but Hermione jumped back.

"But I saw you," she head shook, trying to clear her mind. "You weren't moving. Percy said you were...were..."

"I'm right here," he assured her. "A little rattled, some bumps and bruises, a nasty headache, sure, but I'm okay." He took a small, tentative step towards her; this time she let him. Hermione's arms wrapped around his waist when he was within arm's reach of her.

"You're real?" she sobbed against his shirt, though she felt the beginnings of a smile reach her lips. "You're really real?"

A slight chuckle escaped him as he comfortingly held her as close to his own body was he could. "I'm really real."

Hermione pulled away slightly, looking into his deep blue eyes, taking in each freckle that dotted his nose, loving the way strands of silky red hair fell across his forehead. And then she smacked him.

"What was that for?" he asked, offendedly clutching the sore shoulder the slap made more painful.

"Fred Weasley," she yelled, "you scared the living hell out of me! Don't even get me started on your poor mother. She's completely beside herself. She keeps hugging George and then pushing him away, hoping that he'll suddenly become you. How could you?"

The usually cheerful face of Fred Weasley fell at that moment. "I didn't mean to," he murmured, moving away from her to lean over the railing. Quickly, he pulled away as he saw bodies carried back into the castle. A hand on his back made him turn around to face her again.

"I didn't mean to yell," she apologized. A smile lit his face as her hands touched his sides, his stomach, his arms.

Fred shook his head. "It's fine, I deserve a bit of it," he told her. "Although, I was pretty unconscious, so it's not as if there was a lot that I could help. Why, may I ask, do you keep touching me?"

Crimson stained her cheeks as her arms fell to her sides. "I...it's just...I'm trying to make sure...if I touch you I know this is real. If I touch you, then you can't just disappear."

Fred wrapped his arms around her once more. "I told you," he said with a laugh, "I'm really here. Cross my heart, I'm not going anywhere for as long as I can help it."

"Don't...don't say that," she chided, a fresh wave of tears coming. Hermione clung tighter to the man in front of her, small hands clenching his shirt. They stood silently for what seemed like hours, just holding onto each other for dear life. "You should really come down to see your family," she finally spoke, reluctantly breaking the silence.

Fred nodded. "Just a few more minutes," he decided, tightening his arms around her. "I rather like this position we're currently in."

Hermione smiled against his chest before turning her head up to look him in the eye. The deep pools of oceanic blue were fixated on her; she could feel them boring a hole through her. She wasn't even thinking, to hell with the consequences, as she reached a shaking hand to touch his cheek. The skin was soft and warm against her palm, as he leaned into the touch, eyes closing. Fred bent his head, closing the inches between them. His lips touched her forehead first, then moved down to her nose, her left cheek, her right cheek, then finally brushed softly over her lips. The pair moved perfectly in sync with one another; Hermione's hands running the length of his back, while Fred's gently caressed her neck, his thumb running over the scar at the base of her throat. He pulled away first to catch his breath, his forehead resting against hers.

"We should really go downstairs now," Hermione, ever the voice of reason, said when she'd finally caught her breath.

Fred nodded in agreement as a smile played at his lips. "You're right. Hey, you think I can convince George that he's seeing himself?"

She laughed a hearty laugh. "No, we can all tell you apart now."

"It's the ear, isn't it?" he inquired seriously, an arm snaking around her waist.

Hermione shook her head, laughter not ebbing. "I'm glad we still have you," she told him, leaning into his side.

"Yes, life would be pretty boring without me," he replied, slowly making their way down to the Great Hall.

The End.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: One of my awesome reviewers, Binka Fudge, left me a great message asking me if I could expand this from a one-shot. I've put a lot of thought into it, and started writing chapters. I don't have a lot of chapters planned for it, 5 or 6 at the very, very most. So, please read, enjoy, tell me what you love, hate, are mildly okay with.

Oh, and I still own nothing. But, I do have a birthday coming up, so ya know, gift ideas.

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Chapter 2

Trepidation set in as Fred and Hermione reached their destination.

"Wait," she said, pulling on his arm to halt any more movement.

"What's wrong?" Worry crinkled Fred's features as hand cupped her cheek.

Tears brimmed once more in her brown eyes. "What if...you're going to think I'm mental...what if this isn't really real?" she wondered. Fred opened his mouth to cut her off, but she continued, "This could just be my imagination, right? It's happened to Harry before, thinking he saw his parents even though they were dead. I can't go in there and tell your family that I found you alive if this isn't real. It would destroy your mother beyond belief."

Fred clasped her hands in his own. "This is real. I'm real. I don't think I'd be able to let you tell me family that I'm okay if I wasn't really."

Hermione sighed, leaning against Fred's warm body. "Okay."

"Okay we can go in or okay you're going to run away as soon as I open that door?" Fred asked.

"Okay, we can go in," she told him, her hands tightening to the point that Fred's fingers turned as white as the bones beneath.

George was the first to look up as the heavy, wooden door creaked open. His face was ashen, eyes red-rimmed from crying, and his mouth fell open. As the couple moved closer to them, George tugged at his mother's sleeve to get her attention. A loud sob escaped Mrs. Weasley at the sight of her once lost son. Hermione was bumped out of the way as Mrs. Weasley descended on Fred, enveloping him in a bone crushing hug as she wept against his shirt. He flashed a smile of apology Hermione's way before attempted to extricate himself.

"Mum, I'm a bit sore, could you loosen up a bit, please?" His voice was strained as he spoke.

"If you think for one moment, Fred Weasley, that I'm losing you again you are sorely mistaken," she admonished, still holding tightly to her boy.

"Oh, he's sore alright," George whispered to Hermione. "Thank you," he added.

A look of surprise ghosted over the young witch's features. "What for?" she asked dumbly.

"Bringing back my brother," replied George, a blush creeping up his neck. He wound an arm around Hermione's shoulders and kissed her temple.

"I just found him up at the Astronomy Tower," Hermione lamely declared to Ron and Harry as George moved over to his twin's side with the rest of the family. The two boys pulled her into a hug, Ron refusing to let go long after Harry pulled away. She allowed it, not wanting to be without that protective feeling, but wishing it were a different Weasley's arms wrapped around her.

"We should be getting home," Mr. Weasley announced some time later. Ron moved away to walk with his family towards the entrance hall of Hogwart's, but Harry and Hermione remained still in their places. It was Fred who caught sight of it, and none too kindly told them to get a move on or they'd leave without them. They followed closely behind the Weasley clan to the edge of the grounds before Apparating away to the Burrow.

Hermione was exhausted by the time they all reached the house, but seeing Fred standing by the garden made her postpone her date with a real bed for just a little while longer.

"Fancy seeing you here," he said when he caught sight of her.

"Yeah, you too," she replied nervously. "You should really get some sleep. It's been a rough night for you."

Fred shook his head. "Been a rough night for all of us. Couldn't sleep if I wanted to."

"Well," she said with her usual know-it-all air, "still, you should be inside before you catch your..."

"Death?" Fred asked with a chuckle. Hermione winced at her poor choice of words. "I'll be fine, Granger." It stung to be called by her surname after they'd kissed, but Hermione nodded and walked inside, leaving Fred to his thoughts.

Sluggishly, Hermione undressed and pull on pajamas before collapsing onto her bed in Ginny's room. It hadn't occurred to her the nightmares that might pop up once she closed her eyes, but she didn't care. She longed for the peace that sleep brought, knowing that tomorrow would be safe. It felt like minutes, though in reality it must have been hours, later to the sounds of tortured screaming. Hermione flew out of the room, moving closer to the sounds that came from the twins' bedroom.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she threw open the door to see Fred sitting up, sweat matting his hair, as he panted to regain control of his breathing. Hermione was by his side in a flash, arms encircling one another.

"Nightmare," he told her, trying to play it off, but the grip he had on her told her it was worse than he'd let on.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" she asked, as he released her to lie back down.

Fred shook his head. "Just...would you mind...will you stay here with me until I fall back to sleep?" He looked both years younger and decades older at that moment as Hermione moved into a more comfortable position on the small bed.

"I'm not going anywhere," she assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, as Fred held her as close to his body as was humanly possible. She lay awake until his breathing slowed, a sure sign he was asleep. Then sleep cast its spell over her.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains. Hermione wasn't in her bed. Someone had a tight grip on her waist. She squinted against the harsh light and noticed a still sleeping Fred next to her. She smiled at the sight of him, her hand tracing one of the cuts along his cheek. His eyelashes fluttered before lids revealed that magnificent blue.

"Hi," his voice was husky as he spoke.

"Hi," she replied, a smile still on her face.

"I really need the loo," he told her, groaning as he pulled away from her to stand up. The bed felt cold even though his warmth lingered on the sheets. She laughed at him, watching him stretch out his long limbs, before pushing back the blankets to stand up. "Sleep okay?"

"Yeah, it was fine," she told him. "You need a bigger bed though."

"Planning to bed me again, eh, Granger?" Red eyebrows quirked, the usual Fred Weasley smarm and arrogance coloring his words.

Hermione huffed. "As I recall it was you who asked me to stay. Rather pathetically, if I might add."

A chortle escaped Fred's lips, the old familiar look of mischief and excitement lighting his blue eyes. It fades as reality sets back in in the form of his mother's voice calling her children to breakfast. "What are you going to do about Ron?"

Hermione shrugged, sinking back down onto Fred's mattress. "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about."

The look on Fred's face told her that he knew she had a clue as to what he was talking about.

"I shouldn't have done it," she mumbled. "I thought Ron was it, that he was the one for me. I waited all those years for him to notice me. It took four for him to realize I was female. Then Lavender Brown came into the picture, and he was head of heels in minutes. Maybe it was just jealousy that made me like him. I thought our first kiss would have that spark, like fireworks, like our kiss did." Crimson colored her cheeks at her last admission. Fred took a seat next to her.

"He loves you," Fred told her, hating himself for having to be the one to do it. "Yeah, it took awhile, but he does."

"What if I don't love him?"

Fred sighed, "At least talk to him before you make up your mind."


	3. Chapter 3

So, it was either write a new chapter or slip into the coma that comes with copy editing a 633 page book on alternative investments. I thought you all would like this better. Enjoy!

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Chapter 3

Ron's hair stuck up in all directions as he joined his family at the breakfast table, a hand rubbing it into further disarray. He plunked down in a chair next to Hermione, kissing her cheek before resting his head on the table. A muffled snickering sound across from her caused Hermione shoot Fred a dirty look. It was moments like those that made her wish her wand wasn't still on Ginny's bedside table.

The smells of bacon, sausage, and maple syrup revived Ron long enough for him to pile his plate high with food. Scrambled eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausage, toast with butter and jam, and a slice or two of ham left Hermione wondering if there was an actual plate underneath it all. She nibbled on the corner of a slice of toast, eyes flicking from Ron with his mouth full to Fred across from her with a far off look on his face. Her appetite gone, Hermione pushed back her chair and excused herself.

Harry elbowed Ron in the side, causing the redhead to choke on his scrambled eggs. "Don't you think you should go see what's bothering her?" he whispered loud enough for half the table to hear.

"Huh?" was the only reply he received.

Fred began to stand up. "I'll check on her," he volunteered.

Ron swallowed and grabbed the last piece of toast off his plate. "No, I'll go. She's my girlfriend after all."

Fred watched his younger brother take off up the stairs. "Mum, I'm feeling a bit tired. I think I'm gonna go home, sleep for a bit," he told her, walking his plate to the sink for washing. He moved over to place a kiss against her cheek and wrap his arms around her from behind. "Thanks for breakfast."

Upstairs, Hermione threw her clothes, but dirty and clean, into her bags. Her wand arranged her books and toiletries inside her traveling trunk. She needed to leave, to be away from the only family she currently had. Harry had talked her into waiting a while before searching for her parents. Their house would do for now, though. It would be quiet, peaceful, and would contain no red haired distractions.

"Hey Mione, going somewhere?" Ron asked, finishing off his toast. She looked up, taking in his bed head, the orange Chudley Cannons pajamas that were too short in the legs, and the bit of jam that clung to the side of his mouth.

"Home," mumbled. "I just need to go home."

Ron looked dejected. "Oh, I thought we could spend the day together."

"I'm tired, Ronald," she hadn't meant for her voice to sound as harsh as it did. "I just spent the better part of the year on the run, then fought a war, and I barely slept last night. I'd like to go home, sleep in my bed for awhile, and just relax finally."

"Why can't we do that together?"

"Because I can't be alone with you there breathing down my neck!" she yelled, a hand flying over her mouth once the words were out. Ron's ears took on the familiar red tint they got when there was an emotion to express. "I'm sorry, Ron."

Ron crossed the room to stand before her, enveloping her in a tight hug. She could feel her resolve slip away as tears watered her brown eyes. "It's alright, Mione. I shouldn't have pushed. Are you okay?" He felt her nod her head against his chest before stepping away from his grasp.

Drying her eyes, Hermione went back to packing. She could feel Ron's eyes on her, following along with her as she moved around the room.

"I love you, Hermione," he blurted out, the pink tinging his face with embarrassment.

"What?" She whirled around to face him, dropping the books in her arms; one falling right on her foot.

"I love you," he repeated, this time sounding more sure of himself.

"Th-thank you," Hermione told him, bending down to pick up her possessions. When she stood up she saw Ron's mouth hanging open. "Please don't misunderstand me. I'm flattered that you'd like me, and a part of me will always love you, Ron, but I just don't think I'll ever be in love with you."

The door slammed shut as Ron exited. Hermione released a deep breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. Suddenly, it swung open again.

"You were the one to kiss me, as I recall," he said angrily. "I don't want to hear this that all of a sudden it's over, that you never loved me. You kissed me!"

For the first time in seven years of friendship, Hermione was genuinely afraid. "I know," she replied meekly. "I'm sorry."

"What's all the yelling going on in here?" George interrupted.

"Couples argue, that's all this is," Ron retorted, his fists clenched, the angry crimson color reaching his hairline.

George laughed. "I didn't know you two were a couple," he said. "Hermione, does this mean there's no chance for us?" he added, putting on an air of letdown. Her brown eyes pleaded with the twin to help her out of the current situation.

"We're not a couple," Hermione finally found her voice, though it was still a bit shaky. "And I'm leaving." She brushed past Ron and then George, charming her luggage to follow after her. Seconds later, as Hermione made her way down the stairs, she heard footsteps behind her. Silently, she prayed they weren't Ron's.

"So, where are we going?" The voice held a sense of humor so rarely heard from anyone who wasn't a Weasley twin.

Hermione looked back quickly to make sure it was in fact George. Then she continued on her way. "Home, I already told you that."

George nodded, though he knew she couldn't see. "Maybe you should come stay with us," he suggested, "instead of going back to a lonely, empty house."

When she reached the landing before the next set of stairs, Hermione stopped and turned to look at him. Suddenly, he looked nothing like Fred, and it wasn't just because of the missing ear. Their faces held no similarities to her anymore; no longer was it hard to tell them apart.

"Fred needs you, I reckon," George began speaking again. He chuckled when her eyebrows shot up and her mouth fell open. "You thought I slept through my brother screaming bloody murder last night? I tried to calm him down, but nothing worked. Then you came in. He needs you."

Leaning against the railing, Hermione dug the heels of her hands into her eyes. "He doesn't want me. He pretty much told me he thinks I should be with Ronald." Her voice was cold and bitter, George noted, though he was unsure if it had more to do with his twin or his little brother.

"We almost lost Fred just a night ago," George told her, his voice more serious than she'd ever heard it before. "Don't push him away."

A key was pressed into her hand before George walked back upstairs. She waited until his door closed to look at it, looped around a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes keyring. It was a key to their apartment. She wanted to go there, to kiss Fred again, and tell him that Ron knew now that her heart didn't lie with him anymore. She wanted to wake up in his arms each morning, and fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat each night. But he didn't want her. He wanted her to be with his brother, because his brother actually loved her. Tears stung her eyes at the thought that she could love someone who had no intentions of reciprocating her feelings. But maybe, just a little bit of her hoped, maybe Fred could love her, did love her. George said he needed her, she chased away the dreams that came.

Need and love could go hand in hand, couldn't they?


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you so much to all of you who've read my story so far. I really appreciate it more than you know. This chapter would have been written and posted sooner had this not been a really good weekend of football...or my mom's birthday. As always, read, enjoy, let me know what you think!

Oh, I still own nothing but the laptop I typed this up on.

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Chapter 4

The ceiling kept changing colors.

Fred, in a fit of insomnia, decided it was time to redecorate. It kept his mind off of the scenes that floated through his brain - the collapsing wall, the kiss at the Astronomy Tower, the...well, Fred didn't want to think about it. Instead, he occupied his time testing paint colors. His hand clinked to the floor when he ran out of enthusiasm for the project. Then he heard a knock at the door.

His bare feet padded along the hardwood floor, a soft thud sounding with each step. Quickly he flipped the lock on the knob and twisted. Standing before him, rosy cheeked and bushy haired, was Hermione Granger...and her luggage.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised and intrigued by her presence.

"George thought it would be a good idea if I stay here until I find my parents," she told him, taking in the colors around her. "Did it always look like this?"

Fred moved out of her way before reaching down for her bags. "I was having trouble sleeping, and the place needed some color."

Hermione nodded, moving over to the couch to sit down. Her head lolled back against the cushions, eyes falling closed. "You missed some excitement, or at least some yelling, after you left."

He made no move to join her, just stood against the archway between the living room and kitchen. "You talked to Ron, I'm guessing. How'd that go?"

"You realize it is literally a pain in the neck to have to talk to you when you're standing up," Hermione deadpanned. The couch cushions shifted as Fred sat down. When he was done making himself comfortable, Hermione spoke again. "I told him I didn't love him. I haven't seen him be so mad at me since third year when I turned in Harry's broom to McGonagall. But that was nothing compared to this."

"You broke his heart," Fred replied, looking down at the floorboards. "What did you expect?"

"So, it would be better to be with him even though I don't love him? Wouldn't he be more heartbroken if he found out after how ever long that I never loved him the same way?" Anger rose, staining her face red. Her hand reached out to take hold of his, and for the time being, Fred allowed it. "If you tell me, right here, right now, that you don't feel even a bit of what I feel for you, then I'll go. I'll tell Ron that I made a mistake, I don't know, that I had been denying my feelings. I'll go to the top of the tallest peak in the United Kingdom and declare my love for Ron Weasley."

Fred's lips covered hers, effectively cutting off any more of the diatribe she was currently on. It held all the passion and intensity that their first shared kiss had. There was that longing to be in that position, together, fused into one being that neither could deny any longer.

"Do you really need me to say it?" Fred asked, breathing heavily when their lips broke apart. Hermione nodded. "I used to find you annoying, the way you'd sit with your nose in a book instead of having fun with the rest of us, the fact that you had an answer for everything, and made sure everyone knew it. I can't even keep track of the number of times you yelled at George and me for pulling pranks and testing our newest inventions on the other students. You seemed so self-righteous, so untouchable."

Hermione's face fell as he spoke, listing off qualities she herself found unlovable. A tear rolled down her cheek, but Fred caught it. "Please, don't take offense to what I'm telling you," he continued, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Last night, when I saw you, it was like something clicked. It was like I couldn't just look at you as my little brother's best friend, or that bossy, annoying, know-it-all bookworm who liked getting me in trouble. It felt right to hold you, to kiss you, to have you in my arms when I woke up. That nightmare last night was about you. Dreaming that I lost you forever, that you were the one that stupid wall fell on instead of me...that was why I asked you to stay with me."

Hermione unlaced her fingers from Fred's before letting them tangle in his hair. Slowly, searching his eyes for the okay, she leaned forward letting her lips connect with his. This kiss was slow and tender; a chill running up Hermione's spine from a combination of Fred's hand and his exploring tongue.

Reluctantly, Hermione was the first to pull away, the need for air becoming too great. "I'd pick you," she whispered.

"You're sure about this?" Hermione nodded, pressing her lips to Fred's in a chaste kiss.

"And I'm not going anywhere," she told him.

********

"But it's Fred, Harry. How can someone like Hermione like someone like him?" Ron lamented as he paced his room.

Harry sat on his bed with his back to his best friend, flipping through back issues of _Quidditch Illustrated_. He'd been listening to Ron for an hour already, and had already heard all his reasons why Fred and Hermione were completely wrong for each other.

For the fifth time, Harry muttered, "Maybe it's just a case of opposites attract."

"Are you saying you're okay with this?" Ron inquired, turning to face his friend. "Hermione's not supposed to be with _him_." The Boy Who Lived chuckled quietly, thinking Ron spoke of his own brother as if he were He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. "Think this is funny, do you?"

Harry set a solemn look on his face before answering. "No, not at all. But, honestly, Ron, you couldn't expect her to wait around for you forever."

"She kissed me!" Harry rolled his eyes at hearing that for the fourteenth time that afternoon.

"Yeah, I was there. It wasn't something I really ever needed to see," Harry replied, cringing slightly at the memory. Part of him would have rather battled Voldemort again than see his two best friends in a lip lock.

"But, Harry, _she_ kissed--," Ron started

"We know, Ron, we know," George interrupted. "Hermione kissed you. You saw fireworks and sparks and little birdies flew 'round your head when it was over. We've all heard this story many, many times."

The younger redhead turned around to scowl at his brother. "What do you want?"

George shrugged, moved to sit on Harry's bed, and picked up a discarded magazine, flipping through the pages. "Just thought you should know that Mione is staying with us in case you wanted to beg for her forgiveness. I imagine you on your hands and knees apologizing and pleaded for mercy would get you back in her good graces." There wasn't a hint of humor in the twin's voice; both Harry and Ron shocked at the seriousness of his tone.

"You would side with them," Ron spat. "What with him being your twin and all."

The magazine flopped to the floor, George's face turned bright red with anger, and Harry hung his head at his best friend's stupidity. "He's your brother too," George shouted. "We all could have lost him a day ago. I watched a wall fall on my brother, my best friend, and I thought he was dead. Any one of us could be dead right now, and you have the nerve to say something like that, something so stupid? And over a girl, no less. You'll be lucky I don't tell Mum about this."

Feeling he sufficiently made his point, George pushed past his brother, knocking into Ron's shoulder, and left the room.

The remaining inhabitants of the room stared silently at the door, taking in George's words. After a few moments, Harry was the first to speak. "I think you have another person to add to that list of apologies you need to make."

Ron watched as Harry stood, clapped a hand against his shoulder, and left the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to everyone who's been reading. It puts a smile on my face each time I get a new review. This chapter feels a bit heavier to me than any of the previous, but hopefully some of the lighter moments come through as well. I've got one more chapter and maybe an epilogue planned, so stay tuned!

Disclaimer: Still doing the no owning thing here.

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Chapter 5

No one would have expected to see Ron pacing outside the storefront to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes on Monday morning, but that was exactly where George found his younger brother when he opened the shop.

"What are you doing here?" George's face was set in a scowl as he took in his brother's appearance - the dark circles under his eyes, the frown set across his mouth, and the way his hands burrowed deeper and deeper into his pockets with each trip back and forth.

"Came to apologize," Ron grumbled, looking down at his feet. George stared disbelievingly, remembering the conversation they'd had just days prior. Nonetheless, he opened the door wider, allowing his brother entrance to the shop.

"Fred and Hermione are upstairs," George told him. "I think they're still asleep though. Fred sounded kinda awful. Not sure how long it took Mione to get him back to sleep." He shouldn't have been so happy when Ron winced, knowing he'd struck a nerve. The smile that formed on his face just couldn't be helped. Ron followed closely behind his brother as George walked to the back of the shop, up the staircase, and into their flat. He bustled around the kitchen preparing a pot of tea, the whole time Ron's eyes followed his movements.

A door opened and closed towards the back of the flat before approaching footsteps were heard.

"Tea's ready," George said when he saw the head of unruly curls near. Hermione pushed her hair out of face before securing it with a rubber band. She took a seat at the table, folded her arms on the surface in front of her, and rested her head upon them. "Bad night?"

Hermione's head nodded as best as it could in the current position. She sat up, putting milk and sugar into the cup George placed in front of her. "It'll take some time, but I'm sure he'll eventually be able to sleep through the night," she said confidently. Her eyes followed George's gaze, which was set on Ron, who hadn't moved since he entered. "What's he doing here?"

"Apologizing," George answered. "Well, in theory."

Hermione pushed her chair back and stood up. Taking a few seconds to compose herself, she strode over to stand in front of Ron, arms crossed against her chest. He stood, eyes still fixed on the ground, the toe of his trainer shuffling against the floorboard, hands still stuffed deeply inside his pants' pockets. Slowly, his head rose, eyes connecting with hers.

"I'm sorry for blowing things out of proportion." Ron's voice shook with each word he spoke. "What I said to you, you didn't deserve that. I do still love you, but I guess I can accept the fact that you don't feel the same way. Plus, I reckon Fred needs you more now. If none of us can help him, then I'm glad he has you. He's luckier than he realizes."

Hermione's gaze held firm, her posture never wavering, as she took in his words. "I want my best friend back," she replied crossly.

"I do too," Ron replied sheepishly, running a hand through his red locks. Hermione nodded, her resolve slipping. Instinctively, she slipped her arms around his waist, relishing the warmth that came with being in his arms again.

Footsteps fell behind them, both Ron and Hermione turning their heads to see a sleepy-looking Fred leaning against the archway. "Morning all," he greeted them through a yawn. Hermione untangled her arms from Ron's waist and moved over to Fred. She stretched her arms upwards to encircle his neck, her hands playing with the fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

"Sleep okay?" she whispered. Fred pressed a soft kiss against her neck before nodding.

"I wasn't expecting company this morning," he mused, looking to his younger brother. "What brings you 'round?" Ron's eyes glanced down to the arm still wrapped around Hermione's waist before he looked up again.

"I had a few apologies to make," he said, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. Fred nodded, as if to give him permission to proceed. "I reckon I owe you one too."

Fred's eyebrows raised as he looked from Ron to George to Hermione then back to Ron. "What for?" he inquired.

The younger boy threw a glance to George, whose posture currently resembled someone who was waiting to read a riot act. "I said some things," Ron started, turning back to Fred. "Some things I'm not too proud of. I won't get into it, because it shouldn't have been said in the first place, let alone repeated again. But I want you and George both to know that I really am sorry for being an insensitive git."

Fred let out a small chuckle, but George remained stoic. "Thanks, Ron. I'd really love to know what was said about me," Fred replied. He threw a look to his twin who just shook his head. "George, something you want to add?"

George just shook his head in response and moved toward his bedroom. When the door slammed shut, Hermione was the first to speak. "What was that all about?" Her eyes shot Ron a look that told him he'd better start explaining.

Ron looked rather sullen at his brother's departure. "He was there the other day when I said what I said." Fred nodded, needing to hear no more. But Hermione was always a different story. Raising an eyebrow, she again shot him a look that said she was still awaiting an explanation. And so, as he always did upon receiving such a look from Hermione, Ron told them what he'd said.

Fred nodded solemnly when Ron stopped speaking. He'd known all along that his brother would disagree with their relationship, maybe even resent him for it. "I'm sorry you felt that way," Fred said quietly, not daring to look at anyone. "I think I'm just going to go lie down again. Still a bit sore and all."

Ron and Hermione watched Fred turn back to his room. Slowly, she turned to face Ron. "I'm sorry I pushed you to tell us that. I hadn't thought it would be...that. I'll talk to them though. Set this straight." He nodded, purely out of instinct that Hermione Granger could handle anything, and watched her walk into George's room.

Once inside, Hermione looked around for the redhead she sought. The room wasn't big at all, taken up mostly by the full-size bed and small writing desk. Light, as if from the tip of a wand, shone from underneath the closet door that occupied the right side of George's bedroom. She smirked, pulling open the fold out door to reveal the one person she was looking for.

"Hiding in a closet?" she inquired. "What kind of Weasley twin are you?"

"How's Fred?" George asked, dismissing what he normally would consider a joke. Well, for her at least.

"Went back to bed," she replied, sitting on the floor beside him. "Ron told him what you overheard. It was my fault, just so you know. No hexing anyone."

George held up three fingers. "Wizard's Honor," he promised. "Is Fred okay?"

"He will be," she told him, chewing at the inside of her lip.

Standing just outside of another closed door, Ron deliberated whether it was a good idea or not to try talking to Fred. His mind was made up for him when Fred opened the door, startled to see anyone standing on the other side.

"Let's talk," he said, wrapping an arm around his younger brother's shoulders. Fred led him out the front door, down the stairs, and into a quiet corner of the shop's back room. "George and Hermione don't really need to hear us," he stated, answering Ron's silent question.

The boys looked at one another nervously, waiting for someone to break the quiet tension that surrounded them.

"I need to know," Fred finally said, taking in a deep breath, "that you're fine with Hermione and me being together. Because, if you say right now that you aren't, then it's over. We've all lost far too much, and I'm not losing any part of my family. We're brothers, and no girl is going to come between that."

Ron nodded, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck. "Can't say I ever really thought the two of you belonged together. I always kinda thought you guys hated each other, to be honest. I'm not gonna be the one who stands in your way though."

A smile lit Fred's face as he pulled his brother into a hug. "Just do me a favor," Ron added, pulling out of the happy twin's embrace. "Don't hurt her. Ever. And I mean this for your sake, not hers. She's dangerous at the best of times. Bloody brilliant, but dangerous."

Fred laughed, his first good, genuine laugh in days. Throwing his arm back around Ron's shoulder, he led him up the stairs. "Yeah, even I know better than to cross her."


	6. Chapter 6

I can honestly say that I don't think I can end this story. I keep promising this will be the last chapter, but then the ideas spring up in my head and you all get another chapter. I've come up with far too many reasons to procrastinate today, which works out well for my readers. The added perk of today being payday couldn't even keep me from not wanting to get through the 10 new titles I was assigned yesterday. I also had a really long staff meeting that was pretty much the most pointless thing I've done in my entire life.

Anywho, happy last day of September! I still own nothing you read here. Enjoy!

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Chapter 6

Dinners at The Burrow became a more frequent occurrence in the months since the war ended. If she could have, Mrs. Weasley wouldn't have let any of her children, Harry and Hermione included, move out. Two months had passed, and at least four nights out of the week were spent crowded around the Weasleys' long kitchen table. Fred still looked solemn, George still glowered in Ron's direction from time to time, and Ron was still oblivious to it all.

And so on one particular night, after all had eaten and the dishes were cleaned and put away, Mr. Weasley pulled Hermione aside.

"The Ministry was able to find your parents and reverse the Memory Charm you placed on them," he told her. "They'll be back home from Australia tomorrow."

It had been one of the Ministry's ways of repaying her for all her efforts over the years. Had it not been for the threat posed by Voldemort, she never would have had to send them into hiding, erasing all their memories of their only child. She'd been grateful to those who took on the job; it meant less time searching, less time away from Fred.

Hermione nodded and thanked Mr. Weasley, hugging him tightly. She moved away, catching the sight of Fred sitting alone on one of the love seats in the sitting room. His red hair, long and shaggy from months of not caring about it, was mussed from running long fingers through it. The dark circles under his eyes told anyone who noticed that a good night's sleep was something he hadn't had in a long time. The deep blue eyes that Hermione loved falling into were closed, hidden beneath twitching lids. Cautiously, so as to not startle him, Hermione took a seat next to him, running her fingers through the soft, auburn locks that fell across his forehead. Next, her hand moved down his temple, caressing his warm cheek. She could feel his breath when her fingers neared his mouth. With a sigh, she rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

It seemed like hours later that Hermione felt soft lips press against her forehead; a murmur in her ear that it was time to wake up, they needed to get home. The desire to be closer to the warmth of the body next to her was too great to let go. Her arms were tightly wound around Fred's right arm as she cuddled deeper into his chest. She could feel the rumble vibrate through her as he laughed. Oh, how she loved that sound.

She felt her feet being lifted off the floor, an arm under her knees. Who the arm belonged to she couldn't tell, as hers were still tightly wrapped around Fred's. Another arm looped around her back, effectively pulling her away from Fred.

"I'll take her," a hushed voice said. One that belonged to Fred.

"No, it's fine, I've got her," replied an almost identical voice. So, it was George's arms that she was currently in.

The familiar, sucked through a tube feeling that accompanied Apparition set in before they reached the flat over the joke shop. The cotton sheets were cool beneath her body as George lay her down on Fred's bed. Footsteps fell away, and a door closed with a soft click. She woke up to the feel of a tug at her foot.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," Fred murmured, a smile crossing his face as he held her right shoe in his hand. He moved to her other foot, untied the laces, and slipped off the trainer. A slight chuckle filled the air with melodious sound as Fred watched Hermione wiggle her toes.

"Come lie down with me." Her voice was still thick with sleep. Fred moved up from the foot of the bed, his head falling onto the pillow beside her. Hermione turned to face him as his arm fell around her waist. Lips brushed against lips; soft at first touch, but deepening as their emotions progressed.

"Marry me," Fred whispered, his lips a hairsbreadth from her own. Shock resonated in her brown eyes as she pulled back to look at him. She studied him, lovingly taking in the sincerity his blue eyes held, the way his hair lit up against his pale skin, a finger traced the slight bump in his nose, the scar on his cheek; residual effects of the war.

"Are you sure?" Her voice sounded meek and uncertain in her ears, but she clung all the more tightly to the prankster she'd grown to love in the past couple of months.

Fred nodded, tucking loose, brown curls behind her ear. "Can't say I've ever been more certain of anything in my entire life," he replied. "I'm not sure I could have gotten through the last couple of months had you not been by my side the whole time. You found me that night, and everyday since, you've saved me all over again. I need you, Hermione, and I don't care how selfish that sounds. I need you, and I don't ever want to let you go."

A tear fell, followed by another as it rolled across her cheek and down to the tip of her nose. She smiled as his thumb caught it, wiping away the moisture. "Don't cry," he whispered, a worried look settling on his face.

"They're happy tears, I promise," she replied, leaning in to kiss him once more. "I love you, Fred Weasley."

"I love you too, Hermione Granger." His breath ghosted across her lips, sending a chill through her. Fred's lips kissed a path from her forehead, her right cheek, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. "You are saying yes, aren't you?"

Hermione laughed. "Yes, I'm saying yes," she replied.

Fred sat up, running a hand through his hair. "I, uh, I don't have a ring," he explained, a coloring of embarrassment setting into his cheeks. "This was sort of a spontaneous thing."

She felt like laughing again. "That isn't a deal breaker. I have you, and you have me. I don't need a piece of jewelry to know that."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Fred mused, laying back down as she tugged on his t-shirt.

"Luckily, you won't have to find out," a smile lit her face, eyes twinkling, as she kissed him. They fell into a peaceful silence, arms wrapped around one another, legs tangled beneath the sheets. A thought occurred to Fred as he listened to fiancee's breathing slow.

"What about your folks?" he asked. The thought jarred Hermione awake. The Grangers would be arriving the very next day. Quickly, she jumped out of bed and began hastily packing her belongings. "What are you doing?"

"Translating _Hogwarts: A History _into Russian," she cried exasperatedly. "What does it look like I'm doing? I have to go home."

With a groan, Fred slid out of bed. He knelt in front of her, seizing her wrists to halt her movements. "We'll go in the morning," he told her. "Right now, you need to sleep."

Reluctantly, she dropped the clothes she was too hurried to fold, and followed him to their bed. It was one in a long string of sleepless, restless nights. Thoughts sprung up in her mind every time she attempted to close her eyes. There was no closing her mind, shutting off her brain. She tossed and turned, looking for a position that would help. She sighed when Fred's arms tightened around her, a sign that another nightmare flashed through his mind. They were becoming less frequent as time passed, but each time they came he shuddered, whimpered, and awoke in a sweat, clinging to her as tightly as he could. She sat up with him as the memories faded, his heart rate slowing, until he fell back to sleep.

Sun light streamed through the curtains, casting an orange yellow light around the room. Knowing she could feign sleep no longer, Hermione quietly slipped out of bed and resumed her packing. An hour later, she was finished just as Fred woke up.

"Morning," she greeted with a smile. "You should get ready. I'd like to go in about an hour."

He stared at her in a daze, hardly seeing her at all. Slowly, blinking away sleep, he nodded and headed for the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later he emerged, hair dripping water down his back, soaking the white t-shirt he wore. He noticed the neatly packed travelling trunk, a red and gold Gryffindor patch placed in the center of the lid. She was all ready to leave, he thought to himself, running the towel through his hair. With a heavy sigh, he slipped a pair of jeans and a white button down shirt on, pulled on a pair of trainers, and charmed the weight out of her trunk.

Fred Weasley was ready to meet the in-laws.


	7. Chapter 7

So, this is the last chapter before the Epilogue. I'm currently working on that. It should be up before the weekend is over. Hope you enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I did invent Oddfellow though, so I guess that's something!

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Chapter 7

The house was small, cottage-like in size, with white siding and light blue shutters. Fred stood outside the front door nervously, as if opening it would devour him whole. He could recall one time, many years ago, meeting the Grangers on a trip to Diagon Alley. He was younger then, less interested in the girl by his side. Joke shops, pranks, rule breaking, and Quidditch were his top priorities then.

Hermione could feel the blood flow in her hand stopping as Fred held it tightly. She would have laughed off his nerves if she hadn't been feeling them too. Her thumb moved soothingly over his hand as they stood there.

"We have to knock eventually. They probably can see us through the living room window," she reasoned, pointing out the picture window to their left.

Fred's eyes widened. "You don't think they've been watching us stand here for the past five minutes, do you? Because that could be embarrassing."

"No more embarrassing than when I tell them how you've broken my hand," Hermione joked. "You need to loosen your grip," she added, raising her free hand to knock on the door.

"Wait," he said. She turned to look at him, hand in mid air. A look of confusion graced her features as he continued, "Maybe, just for now, we shouldn't tell your folks that we're getting hitched. Might not make for the greatest of first impressions."

"That might be a good idea."

Fred kissed the back of the hand he held before letting his hand slacken, but only momentarily as she knocked on the door. Seconds after knocking, the door opened to reveal a tall, bespectacled, brown haired man in blue jeans and black polo shirt. His gaze, brown like his daughter's, settled on the red-haired man to her left.

"Who are you?" Mr. Granger asked, ignoring his only child for the time being.

"Fred, sir, Fred Weasley," he replied, his voice low and addled by nerves. His hand dropped Hermione's as he reached it out for a handshake. Mr. Granger didn't comply.

Hermione cleared her throat to get her father's attention. "Hi Daddy," she said when he finally looked at her. She was pulled into a hug that would rival Mrs. Weasley's any day. He led her inside, giving not a second glance to Fred, who stood still on the front porch. He probably would have stayed there until nightfall had Hermione not thrown him a look to follow. They were led to the sitting room just as Mrs. Granger emerged from the kitchen, a tea tray in her hands. She was short, only about an inch taller than Hermione, with the same honey brown curls. In her excitement she passed it off to her husband haphazardly before gathering Hermione in her arms.

"So, you're a Weasley, eh?" Mr. Granger inquired. Fred nodded. "Like that Rob or Ren, or whatever his name was that Hermione went to school with?"

Again, Fred nodded, a small smile hitching up the corners of his lips. "Yes, sir. _Ron_ is my brother."

"I thought you and Ron were dating," Mrs. Granger said, her arms still around Hermione.

"Not dating per say," Hermione responded, pulling away to stand by Fred. A smile played on her lips when his arm protectively wrapped around her shoulders. "Actually, Fred and I are together."

The raised eyebrow and stern look on Mr. Granger's face told the young witch that she'd better start explaining. Hermione told them about the war (leaving out the part about the horcrux hunt), how she'd found Fred at the Astronomy Tower when they all feared him dead. When they asked why her room hadn't been touched and her clothes were gone, she told them she'd been living with the Weasleys, which wasn't entirely a lie. Fred explained, with a deep sense of admiration for the girl by his side, how Hermione helped to pull him out of the depression that followed the war in a way only she could have. He noticed the tears in Mrs. Granger's eyes as they spoke of the past months and each other.

"Now that we're back, will you be coming home?" Mr. Granger inquired. "We've missed a lot of time with you."

Hermione let out a soft sigh, willing herself to look away from Fred. "That was the plan."

Mrs. Granger attached herself to Fred, looping her arm through his elbow. "Let me give you a tour." She pulled him away, talking a mile a minute about what Hermione was like as a child, her first Hogwarts letter, the trips to Diagon Alley ("I've never seen such a place!" she exclaimed.) Fred sent Hermione a pleading look, one that asked her to rescue him the second she got a chance. She smiled back, shaking her head.

"Where are your things?" her father asked when the pair were in the kitchen.

"Oh, right." Hermione reached into her pocket, pulling out the miniature version of her trunk. She held it up for him to see. "Right here. I'll just take it to my room. I can unpack later." The kitchen door was still closed, but Hermione couldn't help glancing at it, wishing she could see through it. Her room was just down a short hallway near the back of the house on the left, across from her parents' room. It looked the same as it always had - soft pink walls, a deeper pink carpet on the floor, bookcases and shelves lining the walls that weren't taken up by the closet, and a twin bed with a white duvet pushed against the wall underneath the window. It was a room created stereotypically for a little girl. She placed her trunk on the nightstand and sunk into the mattress. Her eyes flitted from the books to the picture frames of her school friends and family members to the teddy bear she'd been given at birth. The bear felt smaller now in adult-sized hands. The brown "fur" was worn and dusty, the painted brown eyes were chipped, thread that once held a baby's rattle was now frayed against the paw. Her practical side told her to clean it, a little magic could make it look brand new. But she didn't want to. She didn't want to be in this house, this small room, when Fred would be somewhere else. It was lonely and stifling.

The teddy bear fell to the bed as she stood and walked out of the room.

"My favorite part was the 'Wall of Hermione,'" Fred declared with a laugh as soon as he caught sight of her.

A blush colored her cheeks as she sat beside him on the couch. "You, Mr. Weasley, are free to go now," she stated, an eyebrow quirked to let him know he wasn't funny.

Fred feigned a look of discontent, but smiled immediately. "I really should get going. George insists on male bonding time with me. Said something about a girl taking up all my free time, though I assured him I hadn't seen Angelina in quite some time."

Playfully, Hermione smacked Fred's arm as they stood. He bade goodbye to her parents, shaking hands and promising to come back soon.

When they reached the door, Fred pulled her to him. "I'm gonna miss you tonight," he whispered, breath tickling the shell of her ear.

"Don't go," she replied, holding him tightly around the neck.

His soft laughter filled her ears, causing her to cling ever tighter. "Thought you wanted me gone." It was a joke, they both knew it was meant as a joke, but Hermione looked stricken at the idea of any time spent apart.

"Owl me at any time if you need me," she demanded. "Promise?"

Fred placed a tender kiss to her lips. "The first sign of a nightmare and Oddfellow will be at your window. I love you."

"Love you too," she replied, kissing him once more before opening and closing the door behind him. She moved back to the living room, her parents sipping tea as they awaited her return.

"He seems like a lovely boy," Mrs. Granger commented.

Mr. Granger snorted. "Better than that brother Reggie of his."

Hermione laughed. "It's Ron, Dad," she corrected. Letting out a forced yawn she added, "I think I'll go to bed."

"It's noon," came her father's reply.

Hermione shrugged. "I could use the sleep." With that, she made her way to her room, locked the door, drew the shades, and slept. It was a fitful sleep; she was used to arms around her waist and a warm body pressed against her own. When she awoke it was dark. The clock on the nightstand told her it was 8:42 PM. A tapping sound came at the window, a small gray and white owl perched on the ledge. Hermione opened the window, allowing Oddfellow in. The note in his beak simply read "Come back." It was George's handwriting.

Panic set in as Hermione whirled around her room gathering her belongings, almost forgetting to stuff the still miniaturized trunk in her sweater pocket. The orderliness of the room served its purpose as she found paper and a pen, quickly scribbling a note to her parents. She explained in haste that she'd gone back to the flat over the joke shop, that Fred needed her now. She told them profusely that she loved them and would come back, but right now she was needed elsewhere. Dropping the note to her pillow, she Apparated to the storeroom of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Hermione reached the top landing, twisted the doorknob to the right, and almost ran face first into George Weasley's chest.

"Sorry," they both mumbled.

She was out of breath, but managed to ask, "Where is he? Is he okay?"

George pointed towards Fred's closed bedroom door. "Thought someone might've been strangling him, the noise was so bad. And he kept yelling out your name, telling you to watch out, and then the screaming would start again. Can't remember the last time it was this bad."

Hermione could - the first night at The Burrow, the night that started it all. She lay a comforting hand on his arm, giving it a little squeeze, before opening Fred's door.

The sight before her brought tears to her eyes. It was a sight she'd seen far too many times. The bedsheets were tangled around his bare legs, his white t-shirt soaked through from sweat, his eyes were red and puffy, and he labored to control his breathing.

"Hermione," Fred said, his voice hoarse and shaky. She moved to his side, taking a shaking hand in her own.

"I'm right here," she soothed, her free hand running the length of his sallow cheeks. "I'm right here."

Fred's breathing slowed as his eyes continued to fix on her, leaning into her touch. "Run away with me," he whispered.

Hermione smoothed back his hair. "Where will we go?"

"I don't care," he replied, taking her hands in his. "We'll elope. Kingsley's the new Minister, he can marry us. It's not too late, we'll owl him right now." Fred was up, pulling a pair of pants up his legs, as Hermione stared at him.

"You want to owl Kingsley and ask him to marry us right now?" she confirmed.

Fred looked up, blinking rapidly, his pants pulled up but unbuttoned. "Why not? You said you'd marry me, Hermione."

His voice sounded small and scared in her ears. With a sigh, the brunette moved to stand before him, her hands resting on his sides, her forehead pressed against his chest. "I thought our families would be there when we got married," she murmured. "Are you sure this is what you want? You won't wake up one morning, months from now when the nightmares have passed, and realize that you don't need me anymore?"

A hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up. She was lost immediately in the deep pools of blue eyes before her. They were moist, still red-rimmed, but the look there was sincere, loving.

"I'll never grow old of you," he declared, finding some strength to put behind his voice. "I don't know if or when these nightmares will stop, but I know I need you to pull me out of them. I smile and laugh and feel a bit of my old self come back when I have you around."

Slowly, Hermione rose on the balls of her feet, lips mere centimeters from Fred's. He moved closer, closing the small gap between them. "Let's do it," she smiled against his lips. "Owl Kingsley. Let's get married."


	8. Epilogue

So, this is it. Big thanks to all of you who've read my story and encouraged me to keep going. I tried working on it this weekend, but had no luck. Something about being at work inspires me...to procrastinate in any way possible. But, that's just between us. So, read, enjoy, don't yell at me for ending it!

Disclaimer: The lullaby in this chapter was one that my grandmother used to sing to us when we were little, so I don't know the origin or who it actually belongs to. All I know is that it's pretty.

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Epilogue

It was a quiet night in Diagon Alley. Fred Weasley sat in a rocking chair, his newborn daughter Faith softly sleeping in his arms. A year ago to the day the war ended. A year ago to the day, Fred's life almost ended. It amazed the redhead how quickly life had changed. Never in the past had he thought of himself as a family man, but now with the new bundle in his arms he wanted nothing else.

Faith let out a whimper as she wiggled in her father's arms. Fred held her closer, inhaling her sweet smell, as he hummed. Her cry increased as he rocked, his humming turning into a lullaby.

_Goodnight, my love  
The tired old moon is descending  
Goodnight, my love  
The moments with you now are ending_

It would be so heavenly holding you  
Close to me  
It will be heavenly to hold you again in a dream

The stars above have promised to meet us tomorrow  
Til then, my love, how dreary the noonday will seem

So for the present, dear, we'll say good night  
Sleep tight, my love  
Goodnight, my love  
God rest you pleasant dreams, sweetheart

The cries ceased, much to Fred's relief. He stood, crossed the room, and placed his little girl in the bassinet. A sniffle behind him alerted him to the fact that he wasn't alone. A smile lit his face when he saw his wife standing in the doorway.

"That was a pretty song," Hermione whispered, closing the distance between them. "Where'd you learn that?"

Fred's arms wound around Hermione's waist, pulling her close. "Mum used to sing it to us every night before bed," he told her, guiding her to the sitting room so as to not awake the sleeping baby. Fred dropped down on the couch, rubbing the exhaustion from his deep blue eyes. He felt the presence of another body on the sofa, a head resting against his shoulder. They sat in silence, both with eyes closed, enjoying the brief moment of quiet that pervaded the air. "Ya know, Mum used to sing that to us, one by one," Fred said, remembering his childhood. "Drove Bill and Charlie crazy, having to hear it seven times a night. Plus, well, you've heard Mum sing."

Hermione giggled, stifling a yawn as she did so. "Lullabies always sound nice, no matter the quality of the singer."

"Hmm, guess that's true," he mused. "Get Harm down okay?"

Hermione groaned, tossing her head back against the couch. "Your son will be the death of me, Fred Weasley."

It was Fred's turn to laugh this time. "Oh, my son? Now he's just my son? Last I checked it takes two to...what's the rest of that saying?"

"Tango," she finished. "And, yes, when I can't get him to sleep longer than thirty minutes, he's your son. Tomorrow night you get both twins."

Fred pulled his wife closer, placing a gentle kiss against her temple. "Mum owled earlier today. Asked if she could sit for her newest grandchildren. Apparently she thinks that after a week we've been overworked as parents and need a break."

"I love your mother," Hermione responded with a contented sigh. She snuggled closer allowing Fred to pull her into his side. They sat in silence, waiting for a cry that would break the peace.

"So," Fred said after a few minutes, "what should I tell her?"

Hermione opened her eyes, looking up at her husband whose face was graced with a smile. "Well, who are we to deny her the pleasure?"

The next day the Burrow was abuzz with family and former Order members. Faith and Harmon were passed from person to person; going unseen by their parents until someone (Ron, Hermione thought) announced that one of the babies was desperately in need of a new diaper.

"Getting much sleep, there Freddie boy?" Bill asked, clapping a hand on his brother's shoulder as he slid a bottle of butterbeer into his hand.

Fred laughed. "No, but that's nothing new. Last year it was nightmares. This year it'll be crying, screaming, hungry babies."

The older man shook his head. "I slept through every night with the first one. When Dominique came, though, Fleur caught on and demanded I start helping with those early morning feedings."

"The second we found out it was twins, I was informed that upon pain of death I would be up every night with one of them," Fred replied, giving a humorous shudder. "Plus, it's Hermione. I don't want to be on the receiving end of one of her hexes."

It was Bill, this time, who gave a very real shudder at the memories of his sister-in-law's talents with a wand. "I hear that," he responded.

Hermione walked up to the brothers at that moment, a skeptical look on her face as they smiled guiltily at her. "We were just talking about you," Fred announcing, his arm snaking around her shoulders. The young witch raised a questioning eyebrow in his direction. "All good things, I assure you."

"Sure, sure," Hermione replied breezily. "Your mum says dinner's ready. Shall we?"

The kitchen was loud and fragrant, Mrs. Weasley bustling around to get supper on the table. Once, she whacked Ron's hand with a wooden spoon as he sneaked a corn cob from a pot of water, which was met with delighted laughter from his brothers. When the final platter, the roast, was place on the table she announced it was time tuck in. Plates were filled, silverware clinking against bowls and plates. Happy chatter was heard, some people having to speak over others to be heard.

"So, what's planned for your date night, then, Hermione?" asked Mrs. Weasley. Hermione, glass of water to her mouth, choked as the liquid slid down the wrong pipe.

"What date night?" she asked, her head whipping from her mother-in-law to Fred, then back again. Fred shot his mother a look, begging her to keep her mouth shut.

A blush crept up Mrs. Weasley's neck. "Nothing, forget I said anything."

Hermione's gaze fixed firmly upon Fred, waiting for an answer. He sighed, shoulders slumping as he spoke, "I thought that since Mum offered to watch the twins tonight, I'd surprise you with a bit of a night out. But if you don't want to, we can just go home after dinner."

Now she felt like an idiot. "I'm sorry," she murmured, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. "That sounds like an excellent idea."

Dinner continued in relative silence; the clinking of utensils the only sound. With his plate empty, Fred stood from the table, collected his wife's now empty plate, and deposited them in the suds that filled the kitchen sink.

"Ready to go?" Fred asked, not noticing who the family had their eyes fixed on him. Hermione, however, did notice, a blush of embarrassment staining her cheeks.

"Sure," she replied, accepting the offered hand Fred extended. They thanked Mrs. Weasley for dinner, apologized for having to leave so early, and Hermione ran through her children's nighttime schedule for a fourth time. Fred laughed, pulling her out the front door to Disapparate to Hogsmeade.

"Where are we going exactly?" Hermione inquired as they passed by storefront after storefront. Fred continued to lead her through the village, whistling to himself and answering her questions with a mere smile. Finally, they arrived in front of the looming gates of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Bet you're wondering what we're doing here," Fred said as if reading her mind.

Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "Miss taking classes?" she guessed. Fred shook his head, but let out a small laugh that he hoped covered the sudden bout of nerves he was feeling. His heart pounded inside his chest as the gates swung open, granting them access to the grounds. The school term had wound down already, the students had all gone home. Hogwarts was theirs for the evening.

"I arranged this with McGonagall yesterday," Fred informed her, as they moved through the entrance hall. "It seemed like the right place to be today."

Hermione nodded solemnly as they climbed flight after flight, avoiding one particular hallway, as they made their way to the Astronomy Tower. Fred leaned over the railing, memories of the war flooding back. Quickly, he pulled away and turned to face the stunning brunette before him. Gathering her in his arms, he whispered in her ear, "This is where you saved me."

Hermione tilted her head to look him in the eye, the pools of blue still able to capture her heart and soul. "I didn't do anything that night," she mumbled. "I just needed some air, and there you were."

"Still afraid I'm not real?" he asked, kissing her forehead.

Hermione sighed, thinking of the turn her life had taken in the past year - married to Fred Weasley with twins. Never had she expected that to be her life plan. She nodded her head. "It feels like a dream some days," she admitted. "Sometimes I think I'm gonna wake up and all this will be gone, that you'll be gone." Tears welled in her brown eyes as she spoke; Fred catching a stray droplet as it slid down her cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere, Mione," he assured her, covering her lips with his own. That familiar spark rippled through the pair as the kiss deepened, seemingly on its own accord.

"Promise?" she asked, pulling in a deep breath.

Fred smiled, drawing an X over his heart. "I promise you're never going to lose me."

THE END.


End file.
